Page 70 of Close Knit

“Are you Daphne?” a stunning woman with large eyes and brown curls asks, sitting down in the empty seat beside me. She wears a Lyndhurst jersey that matches mine, tucked into leather pants. Confidence radiates off of her, her shoulders square with impeccable posture.

I smile brightly. “I am! Nice to meet you…”

“Bea.” She extends her hand; there’s a martini glass in the other. “Bea Matos. Ivan’s wife. The backup on the bench for the new guy. Same jersey.”

“Oh, Cameron?” I clarify, spotting a purple scarf wrapped around her neck. I’m pretty certain Sven made it, given the beautiful stitching and his signature braided rib bind-off.

“Yes.” She winks at me.

“We’re neighbors!” I laugh nervously. “I live in the same complex as half the team.”

“I heard. Have to say, you’re such a sweet thing, helping with Femi’s auction tomorrow.” She tugs at the scarf. “Snagged one of these the moment I saw it. Going to be wearing mine all season.”

“It looks stunning on you. And it was nothing,” I say. “Just glad they got finished in time.”

“I’m so glad to finally meet you. The lads couldn’t stop raving about you at the barbecue last weekend. Ivan and I host thewhole team often, and I do watch parties when they play away. You should come. All the partners do.”

“Oh, no, I’m not anyone’s partner.”

“I just thought since you’re wearing—” she says expectantly. “Well, smart girl.” She pats my thigh. “I was going to warn you about dating footballers, but, truthfully, I was also hoping for some boy drama. Living with all those hot mates under one roof?” She fans herself.

So the jerseydoesmean something. Butterflies flutter in my belly, just like they did the night Cameron kissed my cheek. The things my poor rose-shaped vibrator had to witness after he left me breathless—well, you could say I was so thorny, I wilted with excitement.

Gosh, I’m so thankful no one can hear inside my brain.

“They remind me more of hanging out with my sister.” I laugh. “We watch reality TV and knit together. We just finishedLust Island.”

“Oh my goodness, Georgia Woods so deserved that win!”

I beam. Bea and I seem like we’re going to be very good friends. “Yes. I thought the same, she’s an absolute queen. And she makes her own outfits too? I’m obsessed with her.”

“You’re right, she’s always got her ball of yarn and crochet hooks.”

“If I wanted just a hookup, I’d have stayed home with my wool!” We mimic Georgia’s famous catchphrase together and burst into laughter.

“You know, I’ve been wondering what I’ll do after Ivan retires this year,” she says with a cheeky smile. “Maybe I’ll take up knitting scarves like you to fill up all my free time.”

“You totally should.” I almost burst out of my seat. “I’m hosting a knitting retreat next year; I’ll send you an invite.”

“No way!” she shouts. “Nanny taught me when I was younger, but it’s been years. Here’s my number.” She takes myphone out of my hand and punches in her contact info. “If you’re at the next home game, let me know. You can bring your tools, and I’ll bring mine.” She returns her focus to the game before standing and pulling me up by my arm. “Look, Tamu is going for it.”

The ball flies across the field to Tamu’s feet. He runs at lightning speed, kicks the ball, and the opposing team’s goalie dives, but it’s no use. Tamu scores as the keeper skids along the grass.Ouch.

The stadium erupts. Bea tosses back her martini, sets down the glass, and wraps her hands around my shoulders, jumping.

“Olé, olé, olé, Tamu, Tamu, all the way!” Bea and the rest of the box chant. I sing along, my heart bursting with excitement.

After things calm down, my mind returns to Bea’s friendly advice. Wouldn’t it be interesting to get insider tips on dating a footballer? Not that I’m planning to break my rule anytime soon.

“So.” I attempt to be nonchalant. “What you were saying earlier…about dating a footballer. Would love to know more, just to understand the boys better.” There goes that plan. I’m very much chalant.

Bea’s face lights up with mischief. “Well, let’s start with the perks: romantic getaways, gifts, VIP access, and exclusive events.”

Cameron has been doing that stuff for me, minus the romantic getaways. We do friendly activities instead. I’m sure he provides the same treatment to all his friends, or, well, when he had a bigger friend circle.

“Doesn’t hurt to be spoiled,” I say.

“True, but that stuff gets old quickly—and this is coming from someone who really likes stuff.” She laughs, showing off the rings on her hands. “Then there’s the other side of things. When Ivan signed with Lyndhurst, it was overwhelming. Theconstant spotlight, the tabloids, the pressure, the travel. Lucky for me, I love seeing the world.”

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